Chapter 37
CONNOR
Mildred and I spend Christmas Eve morning handing out care packages to those in the local unhoused community. She knows every person we greet by name. She introduces me as her husband, and every time, they tell me how lucky I am to have her. Of course I agree.
After the library closes at noon, we stop at the group home to drop off presents for the kids. It’s clear Mildred is particularly excited to see Victor and Everly, and so am I.
Mildred hands me a box. I glance inside. “Where did you get all this?”
“Ceddy gave it to me. He found it in the storage shed with the holiday stuff, and I said we could put it to use.”
“I doubt everyone in here is a Terror fan.”
“Toques and hoodies are always welcome. So are baseball caps and T-shirts. They won’t care what team it is, just that it’s new and the logo is cool.” She grabs one of the elf hats from last year. “Come here.”
I bend and pucker my lips. She kisses me and ruins my hair with the elf hat, and I don’t even care.
When we enter, Mildred barely has time to set the boxes down before Everly attaches herself to her like a koala clip. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming today, ’cause now you’re married and have family events to go to and stuff.”
Mildred hugs her tightly. “As if I would miss Christmas Eve.”
Victor appears, wearing a smirk. “Hey, Connor. Nice elf hat.”
I dip my chin. “I think it suits me.”
“Definitely.” He hangs back, waiting for Everly to release Mildred before he moves in for his own hug.
Everything about him softens as he folds his arms around her.
She has this effect on everyone. People fall in love with her kindness and warmth.
More teens come down the stairs, almost all of them seeking hugs. They look at me with wide-eyed curiosity.
One boy’s mouth pulls to the side. “You’re Connor Grace.”
I tuck a hand in my pocket. “I am.”
“You married Dred.”
“I did.”
“You must be really nice,” he says decisively.
“She makes me nicer, if I’m honest.”
A minute later, a lanky teen wearing a sour expression drags himself down the stairs. When his eyes find me they flare. “Holy shit.” He looks to a younger, equally lanky kid. “I thought you were lying.”
He shrugs. “Sometimes I tell the truth.”
The lanky kid stands off to the side, eyes darting to me.
Mildred hugs my arm. “Connor brought some special gifts for all of you.”
I’m suddenly surrounded by chatty, eager teens. I pass out hats and shirts and jerseys. Some of them hug me, others ask me to sign their swag. It’s humbling and gratifying, especially with the way it lights up Mildred’s face.
After we finish handing out loot, we’re invited to stay for coffee and afternoon snacks.
The coffee is godawful, but the cookies are good.
Mildred talks to Cordelia, the house guardian, about her funding proposal in hopes to create additional opportunities for kids to earn their community service hours at the library since it’s been so successful for Everly.
Unfortunately, we’re expected at my parents’ so we are forced to excuse ourselves. I’d rather stay with the kids and drink shitty coffee and eat cookies, but I can’t disappoint my sisters, who are excited to see Mildred.
The twins stand at the window waving, Everly hugging her brother’s arm, both of them looking sad and happy at the same time as I help Mildred into the passenger seat of my car.
“What’s Christmas like at the group home?” I ask.
“They have a Secret Santa gift exchange,” she replies. “Some of the kids might have supervised visits with family members, and the kids who can’t have a family visit or don’t have family make dinner together.”
“Do Victor and Everly see their parents?”
Mildred shakes her head. “No, their parents aren’t allowed visits.”
“Why not?”
“Mom is a sex worker with addiction issues, and Dad is incarcerated.”
“That’s sad.”
“It is, so the group home is better.” She shifts, angling her body toward me. “What is Christmas like with your family?”
I shrug. “Usually my parents take my sisters and Meems somewhere warm.”
“Can Meems travel this year?”
“No, but the rest of my family is flying out after dinner tonight.”
“Have you ever gone?”
“When I was younger. My schedule doesn’t allow it now.” And they stopped asking years ago.
“Of course not.” Her voice softens with sadness. “But we’ll have just as much fun together this year as we did last year.”
“It’ll be even better,” I agree.
Once we arrive home, we change into formal dinner attire, as is the dress code for the evening. Then Mildred comes down the stairs carrying a huge box that’s decorated like a wrapped present.
“What is that?”
She tips it forward, showing me the contents. “Gifts.”
“For who?”
“Your family.” She says this like it’s the most logical thing in the universe, like my parents aren’t stuck-up assholes every time we see them.
“But I already took care of the gifts.” I get my family the same thing every year: spa gift certificates for my mom and sisters, and bottles of expensive imported booze for my father and brothers-in-law.
Meems—I go all out for, though. Every year I get her something different.
Last year I picked out a new winter coat with a matching hat and gloves for her ladies’ nights.
This year I bought her a special reading chair for the guesthouse because she falls asleep in it so often.
“You took care of the gifts from you. These are from me.” She kisses my cheek and passes me the box as Meems appears.
Mildred’s gaze slides to me, brow quirked. “Matchy-matchy, aren’t we?”
Mildred is wearing a black-and-wine plaid dress, and Meems is in green and black. Both have gold accents. My jacket is the same wine color as Mildred’s dress, and my tie picks up Meems’s green.
Meems’s smile is wry. “Connor has always had a thing about color coordination.”
I shrug. “We’re a team.”
“We absolutely are.” Mildred smiles warmly as she holds out her arms, linking the three of us. I walk my girls out to the car, help them in, and make the short drive to my parents’ house. Just a few hours and then my unpleasant family obligations are fulfilled for the holidays.
When we arrive, my sisters greet us with hugs and enthusiasm instead of air kisses, and we’re ushered into the living room.
“Wow.” Mildred smiles wryly. “That’s quite the tree.”
I hum my agreement. It fits my parents’ white-on-white décor.
Mother comes over to give us air kisses, eyeing my suit with disapproval.
“What’s all this?” She peers at the loudly wrapped box full of smaller, less-loudly wrapped gifts, like whatever is inside might jump out and bite her.
“Presents,” Mildred says brightly.
“Did you wrap them yourself?” Mom asks.
“That’s my favorite part of the season.” Mildred carries the box, which she refused to relinquish to me for reasons I don’t understand, into the living room and sets it next to the monochromatic, professionally wrapped gifts already under the tree.
Julian arches an eyebrow, first at the gifts, then at me. “That’s quite the suit.”
Bryson coughs into his glass.
“Isn’t it fun?” Mildred kisses my cheek, ignoring their rudeness. “We definitely need pictures with Meems before the night is over.”
I want to keep Mildred at my side so she can be my personal shield of sunshine and warmth, but my sisters pull her and Meems to the couch so they can fawn over them and talk.
Julian’s phone goes off. “I’ll be back in a minute. I need to take this.”
Bryson follows him. Can’t say I’m sad that I don’t have to field work calls on Christmas Eve.
My father moves in, expression reflecting his disdain. “I see you’re planning to ruin family photos again this year.”
“I didn’t want to disappoint you by showing up in something you couldn’t criticize.” Looks like we’re starting the night slinging arrows.
“You definitely excel at disappointing this family,” he agrees.
I expect the barb, but it still hits sharper than I’d like. “I guess it’s good that I’ve stopped trying to win your favor, then, isn’t it?”
“You could make family events less stressful for everyone if you stopped being such a brat.”
“Why do you think I act this way?” I ask, hoping I sound casually indifferent.
“To get attention.”
“That’s exactly right,” I agree. “Because if you couldn’t be disappointed in me all the time, you’d have to find someone else to be disappointed in. At least the heat is off my sisters and mother when I’m around.”
My gaze shifts to my wife on the couch, flanked by Isabelle and Portia, who are smiling and laughing. Usually Christmas is tense. Unpleasant. Everyone waiting for Dad and me to draw swords and start fighting. Because I can’t help myself. Or maybe because it feels too risky to try anything else.
“Why don’t we open some gifts?” Mildred says, eyes on me. She hastily tacks on, “Unless you have a specific order you do things in? I don’t want to mess with tradition.”
“We usually have dinner first,” Mom says.
“We can change it up this year for Mildred, though.” Isabelle squeezes my wife’s hand. “Do you always open presents first?”
Her cheeks flush. “Oh, uh, I don’t really have family traditions, so we can do whatever works for everyone else.”
Portia and Isabelle are quiet a moment. They glance at each other as they put the pieces together.
Mom surprises me—and I think everyone else—when she says, “We could open one gift before dinner.” She turns nervously to my dad. “Couldn’t we, Duncan?”
“Of course we can,” Meems cuts in, beaming at Mildred. “New family members call for new traditions.”
“You can just open the gifts I brought.” Mildred hops up, her smile bright.
She hands a gift to everyone, and when she offers one to me, I pull her into the oversized chair with me and nuzzle her neck. “I’d rather unwrap you.”
She elbows me in the ribs. “Behave.”
“What if I don’t want to?” I’m doing exactly what my father said, being a brat. The family problem. Mildred didn’t ask for this. Shit.
She turns toward me, searching my face as the sound of tearing paper fills the room. “This is not for me. This is you reacting to something, and later you’ll tell me what it is.”
Isabelle and Portia squeal with excitement, dragging my attention away from Mildred’s unimpressed gaze.
My sisters pull on their toques, helping each other adjust them.
Mother frowns. Meems is grinning widely, and my brothers-in-law and father appear confused.
“I like to knit,” Mildred explains. “I make hats and mittens for people who frequent the library, and everyone needs a winter hat, so…” She shrugs, and I wrap an arm around her, kissing her temple. She doesn’t elbow me this time.
“We should take a picture,” I suggest.
“Oh, I—” Mother starts.
“Oh yes! Let’s set up the tripod so we can all be in it!” Isabelle says. “Last year Connor missed the family photo!”
Because I also missed Christmas in Cabo.
Portia adjusts her hot pink hat with BBB knitted into the brim and hops to her feet. My sisters could not be happier. My brothers-in-law look annoyed. But miraculously, my family gathers in front of the fireplace and don their knitted toques. The guys’ all have the Terror logo knitted into them.
“These are impressive,” I say as Mildred adjusts my hat. I wrap my arm around her and pull her close as Isabelle rushes back into place.
“Everyone say cheese!”
We must take fifteen pictures before Portia decides one is good enough to share. I Airdrop it to the family and immediately post it on my socials, much to my father’s irritation.
The kitchen staff informs us that dinner will be ready shortly.
My sisters are busy fixing their hair, Mom is trying to talk to Meems, and my brothers-in-law are refilling their scotches.
Mildred squeezes my hand. “I’m just going to use the restroom before we sit down.”
“I can show you,” I offer.
I follow her down the hall, and she glances over her shoulder, making sure we’re alone before she pulls me in with her and closes the door. “Are you okay?”
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking this question?”
“What happened with your father?”
“What always happens. He fires arrows, and I fire them back and hate myself for it, so no one wins.”
She cups my face in her hands. “You don’t have to protect everyone else by always falling on the sword. Just a couple more hours. That’s all we have to make it through, and then it’s just you and me and my pretty, festive underwear that you’re welcome to take off with your teeth.”
A spark springs to life inside me. “Can I see them now?”
“No, because if you do, you’ll want to spoil your dinner.” She pushes on my chest when I try to pull her closer. “Be a good villain now, and you can be a bad one later.”
I sigh, drop my head, and breathe her in. “Okay. But only for you.”
“And Meems.”
“Mostly for you.”
Something in her eyes shifts at my words, and I don’t know what it means. I panic a little and force a saucy grin. Being the problem is always my default. “And also because I want access to these festive panties of yours.”
She pushes up on her toes and presses her lips to the edge of my jaw. “We stick together.”
Two hours and twenty minutes later—most of which has been spent biting my tongue and imagining punching my dad in the face—we arrive home, put Meems to bed—she fell asleep during gift opening, which gave us an excuse to finally leave—and head to the elevator.
“You did great tonight.” Mildred runs her nails down the back of my neck as we close the gate and head to the second floor.
“I had a reason to behave.” And I kept reminding myself that tomorrow will be better, as it’s just us and the special surprise I’ve set up for her.
My intention is to take Mildred up to bed and thank her with my mouth and fingers and cock, but before we get there, I find my patience and good behavior have run out.
I can’t get her naked fast enough. I just want to erase all the things that make me hate myself, to blanket over all my fears, to get inside her like she’s gotten inside me.
I back her into the corner of the elevator car, drop to my knees, tug her panties down—they are festive, as promised, with little sprigs of holly all over—throw her leg over my shoulder, and bury my face in her.
She shoves her hands into my hair and rides my tongue, her moans and whimpers echoing off the walls. I’m still fully dressed when I roll a condom down my length, pin her against the wall, and drive into her. The relief is overwhelming. Hot and tight and soft.
“Mine.” I bite the edge of her jaw. “You’re mine.” I kiss her and fuck her and fall deeper. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” she whispers.
And I wish it could be true forever.